


Alternate Uses for Leftovers

by ala



Series: Lokisson [1]
Category: Thor (2011)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-28
Updated: 2011-07-28
Packaged: 2017-10-21 21:40:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/230127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ala/pseuds/ala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Sif? Is something the matter?” Loki asked innocently, slowly rising to his feet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alternate Uses for Leftovers

**Author's Note:**

> While attempting (and failing) to work on this [prompt](http://norsekink.livejournal.com/2496.html?thread=3814592#t3814592) for Norsekink, this popped into my head at 2am. I don't even know any more. As LJ is currently not working I decided to post it here as well.

She was on a rampage, and there would be blood.

She prowled through the halls of the palace, seeking her prey. Those brave or foolish enough to approach her were met with a snarl. She brushed past servants and royals alike, mind focused on her target.

He would _pay._

She found him in the private dining hall, idly popping grapes in his mouth and listening to something his brother was saying. Impossibly, the sight filled her with even more rage. How _dare_ he. She stalked towards the table, snatched up the nearest object and threw it with her considerable might. The spoon bounced off his doublet and he stared up at her in disbelief. Immediately all conversation around the table ceased and all eyes turned towards her. She rarely lost her temper; it would be a good show.

“Sif? Is something the matter?” Loki asked innocently, slowly rising to his feet.

She gave a strangled shriek and threw a bowl. It missed his head by a foot and crashed into the pillar behind him.

He stared at her incredulously. “By Odin’s raven what is the matter with you?”

Her only response was to throw a ham bone in his direction.

“Sif, this isn’t like you. For one, your aim is usually much bett--” Loki barely avoided being beaned in the head with an apple.

“Loki Liartongue! Snake! And to think I believed you!”

If she hadn’t been so blinded by her own fury she would have seen him flinch at her words. As it was she searched for something else to throw.

“About what exactly?” he asked tentatively. He started moving cautiously backwards but stopped when she picked up a goblet.

“This!” She waved her hand about in a manner that suggested she was either referring to her braid or Volstagg’s dinner.  

“Well that was helpful. Sif wait!” he dodged the goblet, “I am sure that whatever I did wrong I can make it up to you.” He skittered to the left and narrowly missed a plate. “But please, just tell me what I _did._ ”

“What you _did_? It’s more like what you _didn’t_ do. ‘Oh don’t worry Sif,’” she began in a very good imitation of his voice, “‘this spell is foolproof, there will not be any surprises, I swear.’”  

A look of comprehension and shock slowly crept across his face. “You mean...” he trailed off hesitatingly.

“I’M PREGNANT YOU GOAT SON!” With that outburst she hurled the same grapes he had been eating earlier at his head. He didn’t bother to move, and they hit his face with a wet slap before dropping to floor with a sad plop _._

There was a great expectant pause in the room. Then Thor, for once showing a surprising amount of tact, jumped up and quickly herded the reluctant Warriors Three out of the room. After a moment Sif and Loki were alone, the massive table between them as they faced off against each other.

“This. Is. All. Your. Fault.” she bit out between clenched teeth. She glared at him a moment longer for emphasis before sighing deeply and stalking over to sit on the steps.

“Are you serious?”

“About this being all your fault? I’ll admit to being there, but you said you had everything under control, so yes, I would say I am very serious about this being your fault.”

“No, not that. About you being pregnant.”

“Of course I’m serious. I’m so serious I’ve thrown up for three mornings past and Eir laughed at me when I asked if there was a chance I had been poisoned.”

Loki’s lips quirked in a facsimile of a smile before his brow furrowed in consternation.

“Sif...you’re angry. Do you not want the child?”

The doubt and questioning in his face fueled her anger once more. Did he honestly think so little of her?

“Of course I want it you simpleton! I love you and I’m going to be a great mother! I’ll have to be, won’t I, in order to make up for your hitherto undiscovered mental deficiencies?”

A smile blossomed on his face, the likes of which she hadn’t seen in what felt like ages. Looking at it she felt her anger drain away as quickly as it had come an hour before. If it had been any other time she might of teased him for it, but now she settled for not protesting when he sat down next to her and engulfed her in his arms. She leaned into him, inhaling the scent she had come to associate with him and contentment.

They sat there quietly at peace for several minutes before Loki turned and buried his face in the crook of her neck. “I’m going to be better you know,” he said softly into her hair, “I’m going to be a better father than him.”

She pulled him up to place a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. “I know.”

“Forgive me for the spell not working?”

“I don’t know. I kind of like throwing things at you. It’s very relaxing.”

“Well I declare that as the mother of my child you may throw things at me whenever you want.”

Sif laughed. “That’s a dangerous promise. I’ll hold you to it.”

“Or,” he began with a mischievous grin that she knew far too well, “since we no longer have to worry about spells, you can throw _me_ onto the bed. I promise to relax you.”

The grin disappeared as the cream cake hit him in the face. Luckily for Loki anger made Sif _very_ hungry.


End file.
